You And Me
by sirfluffybottom
Summary: Incubus, Clane (OC), had his village destroyed by Bishamon. There were no survivors in the village, not even his own mother. Clane's soul is filled with sorrow and rage as he sets out to find and kill everyone involved in his mothers death.


**August 14****th****, 1993**

**Calumet City, Illinois**

**11:39 P.M**

Mom's House was the name of the bar I was drinking at that night. Was a clever name for a bar and it was a very well-known one. In the short time I was there, I spent almost every night knee deep in a bottle of Jack at that bar. I could have stayed in that town and drank myself to death in that bar in a matter of days. However, things took an unexpected turn before I could get that low. Whether it is for the better or worse is a matter of opinion.

Having been the only place I had ever drunk at, the image of that bar is still in my head. However, it could also be because when I was escorted out of the bar, the first thing that happened was that my head was slammed into the brick wall beside the door by one of the patrons while another searched my person.

"The hell do you think you're doing around here, Darkstalker?" The one holding my head up against the wall kept asking. I just kept quiet and tried not to struggle as the other patron emptied my pockets of its contents. The man holding me against the wall then drove his elbow into the back of my head, causing my already pounding head to ring. He asked the same question again, this time with more "authority".

"I told you," I started my response. "I'm not a God damn, Darkstalker." I had told this four or five times while in the bar already. I don't consider myself a Darkstalker. The Darkstalkers I've encountered mindlessly hate and murder humans and other Darkstalkers. I am, however, an incubus. I only hold the physical characteristics of an incubus, however. I had never consumed a woman's soul in my life. Good thing those men didn't know I was an incubus or they would've killed me on the spot. Good thing I'm able to concentrate and hide my wings, spikes and tail.

What had happened was I was in the bar having maybe a little more than my fair share of drinks. Like I said, when I concentrate, I can hide my wings and such well. However, after downing a fourth glass of Jack, concentration somewhat slips away all too easily. I was slouching at the bar, tracing my finger around the rim of my glass. I was just starting to drown myself in the sounds of people talking in the bar and of the music playing on the jukebox. I heard a woman's scream from the far end of the bar. I slowly turned to see a horrified woman standing at the end of the bar pointing in my direction. I looked behind me to see if she was pointing at someone else. I discovered something much worse. My tail was partially revealed. At first, I didn't know how to react exactly. I looked back at the woman, noticing more people were starting to look this way. I quickly sobered up and retracted the portion of my tail that was revealed, but it was too late. Two men, mid-forties, both drinking heavily, had grabbed me by the collar and arms and pinned me against the bar. They started interrogating me, asking where I was from and what kind of Darkstalker I was. They kept calling bullshit every time I calmly denied being one. The bartender tried to get the guys off of me. I guess he had been serving drinks to me long enough to not care what I was. As soon as he started to try and defend me, one of the men holding me down called him a "fucking Dark-lover" and said he'd break his spine if he continued to defend me. The bartender backed up and as I was being dragged outside, he shot me a look that said, "I tried." I understood.

"I'm not gonna ask again," the man me against the wall said. The other man had finished dumping my things onto the sidewalk (my wallet and a cell phone). "What the hell are you doing here, Darkstalker?"

"Technically, you asked again…" I let the smartass side of me slip out for just a second, buying me another elbow to the back of the head. I groaned loudly and buckled at the knees, clutching the back of my head. The man let me go and then both of them stepped to the sides of me. One of them kneeled down to eye level.

"What the hell are you anyway?" He asked, a bit of a drunken slur in his voice. "I saw a tail. What is it then? Are you a werewolf or a Catman?" He hesitated before leaning in a bit closer. He smelled of cheap rum and Coke. "How about an incubus? Is that what you are? You know we don't tolerate incubi or succubi here, don't you?" I turned to the man, still rubbing the back of my head. I continued to focus on keeping my incubus features and my rage hidden.

"Sir, if you're seeing men with tails in a bar," I started with the most monotone voice I could muster. "You must have had much more to drink than I had." The man clenched his fists in anger, but his face held an amused look. He patted my shoulder with his other hand and used me to lever himself up.

"My friend and I," he gestured to the other man. "We don't like Darkstalkers. Especially ones who pretend to be human. We don't want to see you around this bar again." They both started to walk back into the bar. I slowly picked myself up off the ground and stood in front of the doors.

"No one else seems to have a problem with Darkstalkers!" I called to them as the doors to the bar closed. I paced for a moment before calling back again. "Can at least have my shit back?" As soon as I said that, one of the men who dragged me out opened the door to the bar and tossed my duffle bag out onto the sidewalk, opening it up and spilling its contents. I cursed under my breath and picked up my duffle bag and what was on the ground and walked over to an alley by the side of the bar.

Once I was hidden in the shadows of the alley, I let myself relax. My devil's-tail fully exposed itself along with my large bat wings and horns. It felt good not having to exert energy just to be in public even though I was technically hiding from public. I kneeled down and started to pack my things back into my bag when I heard a voice from the sidewalk. A female voice.

"Hey, are you alright?" the voice said. I looked up from my bag, somewhat startled, to notice not just any woman. She stood at about five and a half feet tall, cat ears, and her blue hair fell all the way down her back. Her legs were long and halfway down her thigh, skin stopped and white fur began and where he foot should be was a paw. Same thing with her arms and hands. Little patches of fur wrapped around her body covered up any "suggestive" parts of her body, but still revealed quite a bit. She had her paws on her knees and was bending down to me, watching me pick up my stuff with a concerned look on her face. Her long tail swished back and forth behind her. She was a Catgirl and was doing nothing to hide it.

I stammered and tried to remain calm, unsure of how she'd react to me being an incubus.

She ignored my stammering and tilted her head to the side. "I saw what those guys did to you and I was just wondering if you were okay."

"I, uh, I'm fine," I started, finishing packing and slowly standing up. "You're, uh… you don't care that I'm an incubus?" She straightened herself out and put her hands behind her back and smiled warmly.

"Considering you didn't kill those guys when they grabbed you, I assumed you weren't hostile," she laughed, but then got serious for a second. "I was right, right?" I stifled a chuckle and threw my bag over my shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna kill you," I said as I walked passed her. "I'm too drunk to do that properly anyway." I didn't take but five steps away from her before she called me back. I stopped, turned to the side, and looked at her. She took a step or two toward me, holding an expression that told me she didn't exactly know why she called me back.

"What, uh… what's your name?" She managed to say after a moment. I tilted my head, puzzled by the question. I shifted my weight before answering.

"Clane," I told her. "My name's Clane."

"Nice to meet ya', Clane," she said with a sudden spring in her step. I laughed at how much energy this one had.

"And your name would be…?" I inquired. She smiled wide, showing off her bright white teeth (some of which were pointed) and stood on her toes before answering.

"Felicia," she exclaimed, proudly. "Felicia, the pop star!" I raised an eyebrow.

"Pop star?" I questioned. "_You're _a pop star?" Her ears drooped a bit, got off her toes, and frowned slightly.

"Well, no, not yet," Felicia started. She suddenly got that spring back to her and smiled. "But I'm trying real hard to get there! Didn't you hear me performing inside the bar?"

"Oh, right," I lied. _Jesus, I must be drunk. Could've sworn that was the jukebox_, I thought. _Come to think of it, I don't think that bar has a jukebox._ Felicia bought my lie and took a step closer to me, even more excited just by the fact that I "heard her sing".

"_Well_," she let the word hang in the air. "What did you think?"

"I was too busy being dragged out of the bar to really pay attention," I responded (maybe a bit too harshly). "But under other circumstances, I'm sure you sounded great." With that, I turned on my heel and started to walk off. I didn't get to take two steps before Felicia yelled for me to wait. I turned back to her one more time.

"Where are you headed?" Felicia asked, curiously. I hesitated to answer her. Even though she seemed friendly enough, in these times, you can never be too sure of someone's motives.

"Ah, to the motel," I pointed a thumb down the road. "Just a few blocks down. That's where I'm staying for now." Felicia rocked on her toes, thinking up a response.

"Will you still be there tomorrow?" She said after a moment or two.

"Well, uh… Yes?"

"How about I come visit you tomorrow morning around nine?" I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off before I could say anything. "Great! See ya' then!" And with that, she raised a paw and waved as she ran back into the bar, probably to continue performing. I stared at the bar for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. I chuckled under my breath, hid my wings and such again, and began walking towards the motel.

Once I got inside my room at the motel, I threw my bag into the corner of the room. I let out a deep breath and stepped into the bathroom. The bathroom was filthy (most likely from previous patrons) and I had to wipe away some grime off the mirror with the cuff of my jacket just to see myself. Once clean enough to see myself, I stared at myself. Short, ruffled, dark brown hair, hazel-green eyes, and a scar running across my right cheekbone and down to my jaw. So far, I looked normal. I took off my jacket and shirt and stared further. Toned body, tan skin. Still, nothing out of the ordinary. Then, I closed my eyes and relaxed my body. When I opened my eyes, I still saw me… Only this time, I had two large, black horns coming from the top of my head and curving back towards my back, two large black wings on the back of me, and a black devil's-tail coming from my tailbone.

_So, this is the monster everyone is afraid of_, I thought to myself. I sighed in frustration and gripped sink counter, the counter cracking from the pressure. I walked into the bedroom and sat at the foot of the bed and buried my face into my hands.

All I had ever wished to do was to live a normal life. But ever since the day I was born, that was just an optimistic dream. I'm not a full incubus. My mother was a succubus and had gotten sloppy when consuming one human's soul. She ended up having me. She didn't mind at all, considering I had more demon blood in me than human. The only thing human about me, however, is my distaste for consuming human souls. Anyway, we were shunned away from the demon world, due to the fact that I had human blood in me and were forced to live among the humans. Even then, everything was fine. We lived in a fairly decent town and the people were really nice… Until they found out we were of demon descent. I don't know how they figured it out. All I know is that when they did, they hired someone to get rid of us. Someone they thought was a Darkstalker hunter. They hired the one they call the Bishamon, a cursed samurai who dons the curse armor and weapon, Hannya and Kien. He travels around, searching for worthy sacrifices and when he had heard that two demons were living in the demon world, he couldn't pass up that opportunity. I had been out of town for a while when he arrived there. I was out in the market, buying some things for my mother. When I showed up, my entire town was pillaged and destroyed. Not a single being stood; not one human… and not even my mother. I was ten at the time.

Since then, I've traveled. I've searched for the Bishamon and anyone who was affiliated with the murder of my mother. It's been eleven years and I've had no luck whatsoever. I'd given up the search a few months back and came to Chicago to relax and drink a bit. Now I might not even be allowed back in the bar.

_My luck just keeps getting better and better_, I thought to myself. I ran my fingers through my hair, avoiding my horns and let out a deep breath. I lay back in my bed, gently positioning my wings in a comfortably position, and put my hands behind my head. I closed my eyes and soon enough, sleep found me.


End file.
